


simple twist of fate

by warmmouth



Category: Shameless (US), Shameless - Fandom
Genre: Boy x boy, Gay, M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, fan fic, soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 18:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1658528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmmouth/pseuds/warmmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Notes: Soulmate AU where Mickey's "soulmate" is a woman yet he can't seem to shake the image of a certain red head smiling up at him.<br/>***<br/>He doesn’t stop feeling guilty but he can’t forget about Ian either. And every night he falls asleep he’s thinking about red hair, grin eyes, freckles and a smirk, that smirk, the one that Mickey has never seen on anyone else and probably never will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	simple twist of fate

Mickey Milkovich is 7 years old when it happens. The man is dirty, with crazed eyes and shaky hands that he wraps around Mickey’s arms as he leans in, right up to Mickey’s face like he’s going to share something really private. He smells like alcohol, but to Mickey that smell is familiar; calms him almost. And there’s something in the man’s eyes, a rare kind of honesty that makes Mickey want to know more.  
“The soulmates aren’t real,” the man whispers. He glances between Mickey and Mandy, letting go of Mickey with one hand to grab Mandy’s wrist and pull her forwards, shaking them both a little. “Don’t believe what they tell you.”  
A small sob escapes Mandy’s lips, scared and confused. Mickey glances over to her in a panic, not sure why she’s upset but feeling the need to comfort her nonetheless. Mickey doesn’t have to worry because Mandy opens her mouth and lets out a scream, and within seconds Mickey’s uncle is hauling the children away whilst Terry is going at the man, fists flying. Mickey lets out a small cry as Terry’s hand connects with the man’s face, but he is quickly whirled around before he can see anymore.  
Mickey’s uncle lets out a disgusted little laugh. “Fucking conspiracy theorists.”  
****   
At 17 Mickey is in his bedroom, trying to jerk off to a gay porn magazine like he always does when everyone is out of the house, but this time it’s different. Because everytime he looks down he sees his hand, his wrist, defaced by the thick black letters that appeared on his skin 2 weeks ago. Svetlana. A fucking girl’s name. He claws at it, trying to scratch it off. His skin is already red and raw from doing this in the hope that it was some trick pulled by his brothers, that they’d written it on in his sleep. Mickey had always thought he’d want to get a girl, not to be forced out of the closet in front of his father, the entire neighborhood. But now here it is, like a parasite crawled under his skin, feeding off him and taking away everything he thought he knew. He has been marked by the name of his “soulmate” and he wants to scream and cry but all he can do is stare at his wrist and tell himself that maybe it’s all for the best.  
****  
Mickey is watching tv, some stupid wrestling shit, when Mandy arrives home from school, collapsing onto the couch next to him and throwing her legs up onto his lap.  
“So I got the name today,” she tells him, and she says it so casually that for a second Mickey doesn’t know what she’s talking about. But she proudly sticks out her wrist for Mickey to read with a smirk. Ian.  
“And I’m pretty sure it’s Ian Gallagher, but I looked at his wrist and he hasn’t got his yet.”  
“Not a fucking Gallagher,” Mickey grumbles, but he’s pleased for her, happy to see her smiling. “Do you even know which one that is?”  
Mandy rolls her eyes and messily kicks at him, earning herself a laugh from Mickey as he bats her away. “It’s the cute one. The ginger. He’s really nice and he works at the Kash and Grab.”  
Mickey makes a mental note to go to the Kash and Grab next time he’s going to rob a store, so he can see this Ian kid. He thinks he knows which one she’s talking about, but it’s been over a year since he’s seen any of the Gallagher kids except for Lip who occasionally comes over to buy pot from his brothers.  
“Mandy Gallagher,” she tries, more to piss Mickey off than to actually hear how it sounds, never wanting to seriously admit how much she wants to be the girl who gets married and starts a family.  
“No sister of mine is marrying a Gallagher,” Mickey teases, pinning Mandy down to tickle her and trying his best to fake a smile as she cackles and fights back, wishing with every fibre of his being that he could look down at the name on his own wrist with the same kind of affection evident in Mandy’s voice when she talks about Ian Gallagher.  
****  
Mickey stands at the back of the shop, feigning incredible interest in the different kinds of spreads as he watches red hair out of the corner of his eye. Ian is sat behind the cash register, his feet kicked up onto the desk as he slowly chews a candy bar and eyes Mickey cautiously. Mickey hasn’t allowed himself to get a good look yet, because the Gallagher won’t stop staring, as if Mickey’s going to sneakily pocket something and walk out the door- quite offensive, really, as Mickey’s usual tactic is to blatantly disregard the shop keeper and storm right out but, whatever.  
“I thought your family was done robbing this place,” Ian says, and Mickey freezes for a moment. He hadn’t planned for Ian to actually address him and he hadn’t been aware of the fact that his brothers had targeted the Kash and Grab. Knowing it’s the right thing to do for Mandy, Mickey turns slowly and walks over to the counter.  
“Who said I was robbing you?” Mickey asks, and as he gets closer, he is shocked by how beautiful Ian is- and Mickey’s not the type to use that word. The boy in front of Mickey has red hair and gorgeous green eyes framed by dark eyelashes and he’s wearing a grin that is doing crazy things to Mickey’s heart. Mickey’s eyes dance over the Gallagher’s body, over a tight shirt and strong arms dotted with freckles. Mickey wants to feel those arms grabbing him by the waist, turning him around and-  
“If you tell me you’re not going to rob me, you kind of have to pay,” Ian comments with a laugh, sounding almost nervous as he speaks, but this doesn’t surprise Mickey, as most people would be scared to be alone with him. Doesn’t surprise him, but maybe hurts a little.  
Mickey fumbles around in his pocket and pulls out the money, handing it to Ian.  
“Happy?” Mickey asks, and he doesn’t mean to sound so harsh but it comes across that way, and Ian winces slightly. But maybe it’s for the best; Mickey can’t have this boy liking him when he makes Mickey feel these… things.  
“You’re not bad for a Milkovich,” Ian offers in an attempt at forming some sort of friendship. Mickey wants nothing more than to smile back and to shoot Ian a retort that could be defined as nothing short of flirting.  
But he stops himself, because he is here for Mandy, and anyways Mickey has a fucking soulmate, a female one.  
“Whatever Gallagher,” he replies, and leaves, vowing never to come back.  
****  
Mickey comes back the next day. He keeps coming back until it becomes a regular thing, that Ian is no longer surprised to see Mickey in the shop. Mickey decides not to tell Mandy about these little visits, convincing himself that it’s because he doesn’t want to freak her out and not because he wants to keep a little bit of Ian all to himself.  
They exchange small words, sly comments, Ian with this grin on his face like he knows something Mickey doesn’t, like Mickey isn’t being rude but doing something highly amusing. It’s a grin that Mickey wants to hate. But he can’t and somehow he keeps ending up back here, back in the shop pretending to care about the food but watching Ian out of the corner of his eye. Today is different though. They’re not alone. There’s a girl wearing an apron that matches Ian’s, with dark hair in a messy bun and heavy eyeliner. She looks like a European Mandy, to be quite honest, and Mickey doesn’t like the way she’s watching him like she’s ready to pounce.  
Mickey starts to make his way over to the counter, towards Ian, but she cuts him off, standing in front of him with a hand on her hip and her head tilted to the side, a smile that is probably supposed to be flirtatious formed on her lips.  
“Can I help you?” She asks and Mickey glances beyond her to Ian, who for some reason is struggling not to laugh.  
He’s about to reply when his eyes fall to her name tag. Svetlana. His eyes widen in panic and he doesn’t know what to think. This could be the girl he’s supposed to be in love with and all he can think about is the red head smirking behind her. And she’s trying to talk to him and too much is happening at once and he has to get out of there,  
“Fuck,” he mutters, dropping everything he was holding and shoving past her to get to the door. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”  
He tries to pull the door open, but it’s a push and Ian gives a little laugh. But there is no snarky comment from Mickey, no quick retort. Mickey is out on the street and he is walking to god-knows-where, just away.  
This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to meet his soulmate and it wasn’t supposed to be in front of Ian Gallagher. Ian Gallagher who is chasing down the street after him, yelling Mickey’s name. Mickey turns to his left, hoping to lose Ian because he can’t face him right now, but it’s an alleyway with a dead end. Fuck.  
Mickey turns back and Ian is standing in his way looking concerned as he struggles to catch his breath. The last thing Mickey wants is pity.  
“Get the fuck out of my way Gallagher,” he growls, hoping his tone has all the appropriate warnings attached but knowing it didn’t when Ian’s feet stay planted firmly on the ground.  
“You kind of freaked out I just had to make sure you’re okay or whatever,” Ian explains weakly and Mickey lets out a disbelieving snort.  
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about not everything is about feelings and talking shit out,” Mickey replies, and he can see from the way Ian winces slightly that his words came across as harsh, but it’s what he intended.  
“Look,” Ian sighs, running his hands through his hair that even at a time like this makes Mickey’s heart race, and he curses himself for it. “You saw Lana and freaked out. I got kind of worried, but if you’re okay…”  
“I’m fucking fine,” Mickey replies, but he makes no move to leave, wants Ian to be the first one to walk away as if it will make the whole thing easier. But instead, Ian steps out of the way to let Mickey pass by, his eyes not leaving Mickey’s face as if in challenge. Mickey shrugs off the dramatics and starts to walk by, not looking Ian in the eye when he is stopped by a hand clamping around his wrist.  
“Get the fuck off me,” Mickey mutters, snatching his hand away, but it’s too late, Ian has read the name.  
“That’s what I thought,” he says, but it’s not arrogance in his voice, it’s sympathy and Mickey can’t stand it; Ian’s voice ringing in his head as he walks home.  
****  
Mandy is frantically moving about the kitchen, shooting Mickey exasperated looks because it seems that no matter where he stands, he’s in her way.  
“Why are you so fucking worked up? Who’s even coming over?” Mickey asks, as he moves so Mandy can reach into the cupboard and grab plates.  
“Ian. I know what you’re thinking but he doesn’t know yet and you’re not going to blow this,” she says. Mickey feels sick. It’s been six days since the alleyway and he hasn’t stopped thinking about Ian Gallagher for a single one.  
“I’m going for a walk,” Mickey announces, making a beeline for the door, but at that moment they hear a knock and Mickey freezes.  
“Oh, you’re not going anywhere,” Mandy tells him. “And you’re on your best fucking behaviour too.”  
Mickey sighs and follows Mandy out of the kitchen, leaning against the wall as he watches her open the door, one hand on her hip and the other running through her hair in a pose Mickey knows all too well. And then he sees Ian, tall and strong and gorgeous with a sweet smile that Mickey had hoped would lose its effect over time. But there he stands and nothing has changed and Mickey wants to hate him for it. Ian’s eyes meet his own and they tell him that Ian will keep his secret because he’s a good fucking person and he can’t seem to let Mickey find a reason not to like him. Not to want to shove him up against the wall and drive his tongue into Ian’s mouth.  
“Hey,” Ian says with a nod, interrupting Mickey’s thoughts. He’s still looking at Mickey, and Mickey can’t understand why Ian isn’t looking at the girl in front of him. Ian’s soulmate.  
Mickey ignores Ian, turning into the kitchen to go get a beer because it’s exactly what he’s going to need to get him through this whole, fucked-up ordeal.  
****  
“You still pissed at me?” Ian asks, rinsing the plate and handing it to Mickey to dry.  
Mickey rolls his eyes. He doesn’t want to admit that dinner had been kind of fun and that every time Ian opens his mouth with some stupid attempt at being funny Mickey finds himself falling even more. He doesn’t want to tell Ian that it makes him feel kind of special when Ian looks at him whilst talking instead of Mandy, that Mickey likes the way that he gets Ian’s comments about sports and the army that go straight over her head. He doesn’t want to tell Ian all this, but he does.  
But Mickey will always be scared and he will always be destined to be with someone else, just like Ian is destined to be with Mandy so he will always swallow his words, hold his tongue and embrace the feeling of drowning as he falls helplessly in love with Ian Gallagher.  
“Don’t be fucking dramatic,” Mickey mutters, taking the finished pile of plates over and bending down to put them in the cupboard. When he straightens up, he can almost swear he catches Ian glancing away from his ass, like he was checking it out. Or maybe it’s wishful thinking.  
Mandy has left the house to pick one of their brothers up from whatever shit he’s gotten himself into this time, and Mickey can’t stop thinking about the fact that he and Ian are alone in the house.  
He walks out of the kitchen and into his bedroom and to both his amusement and annoyance, notes that Ian follows quietly, shutting the door behind him. Mickey watches with a raised eyebrow as Ian walks around the room, examining all the posters and the scribbles, pausing in front of one in particular and staring at it for so long that Mickey starts to squirm, as if it’s him that Ian is examining.  
“The fuck are you doing, Gallagher?” he asks and Ian turns around visibly startled, as if he had forgotten Mickey was there.  
He walks over to sit on the bed so he’s looking up at Mickey, grinning that stupid fucking grin that Mickey can’t seem to shake. “You draw,” Ian comments.  
“No shit,” Mickey replies, no longer embarrassed but incredibly distracted by the sight of Ian on his bed.  
Ian reaches for a sheet of paper on the end of the bed. It’s a work in progress, a bit of a mes that Mickey hadn’t been planning on showing anyone. Mickey grabs Ian’s arm to stop him, his fingers curled around Ian’s elbow. Without meaning to, he slowly slides his hand down Ian’s arm to his wrist, both boys staring in silence at the place their bodies are touching. They are hand to arm, skin to skin and Mickey’s heart is racing. He’s about to pull away when Ian looks up, his eyes meeting Mickey and saying everything Mickey needs to hear. Begging for Mickey the way Mickey is begging for him.  
At once the boys move, Mickey pulling off his own shirt and then helping Ian with his, desperate to feel sweaty torso, to feel Ian inside him.  
It’s too late now.  
****  
“Hurry the fuck up Gallagher,” Mickey says, urging Ian to get dressed even though it’s the last thing he wants to see. All he can think about is the look that will be on Mandy’s face when she walks in the front door and sees the two boys, wide eyed and guilty.  
“Quit rushing me. You liked it slow 20 minutes ago,” Ian jokes, and Mickey wants to cringe and roll his eyes but he can’t let himself think of Ian’s comments as endearing. He can’t let himself care.  
“Tell Mandy I went for a walk,” Mickey tells Ian, heading for the door, but Ian catches his arm and pulls Mickey back, forcing Mickey to face him.  
“Come on, Mick,” he tries, but Mickey shrugs him off.  
He leaves. This time really will be the last time he sees Ian Gallagher, he’s sure of it.  
****  
Mickey goes back to the store two days later. And then everyday after that, except for Tuesdays and Thursdays, because Ian tells him they’re the afternoons Svetlana is working. Mickey tells Ian that it’s because he doesn’t want to get caught. They both know the real reason he’s avoiding her.  
He doesn’t stop feeling guilty but he can’t forget about Ian either. And every night he falls asleep he’s thinking about red hair, grin eyes, freckles and a smirk, that smirk, the one that Mickey has never seen on anyone else and probably never will.  
Tonight they’re at the dugout. Mickey won’t admit it, but he brought Ian here to share something special, the closest thing he could give Ian to a date. It’s stupid. It’s really fucking pathetic because Ian will never want him and anyway, Ian has a soulmate. Well, so does Mickey, but it’s not the same, not really.  
“What are you thinking about?” Ian asks, breathing out smoke and handing Mickey the cigarette.  
“What kind of a question is that?” Mickey responds, pulling the cigarette up to his own lips.  
He never liked to share before Ian.  
“I saw her wrist,” Ian announces suddenly, and Mickey glances over at him in surprise.  
“What?” Mickey asks, but he knows the answer.  
“She thinks I’m her soulmate, doesn’t she. This is so fucked up Mickey,” he says, looking at Mickey as if expecting Mickey to argue, tell him this is all completely normal and they’re going to be fine.  
“Things don’t have to change, though,” Ian continues, when he is greeted by silence.  
Still nothing.  
Mickey doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t have words anymore. He doesn’t know how to tell Ian to stay, that Mickey might be falling in love with him. He doesn’t know how to tell Ian to go, that he deserves better and Mandy doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. He doesn’t really know anything anymore, but red hair and freckles and guilt. Always guilt.  
“Whatever Mickey,” Ian says, standing up and dusting himself off before walking away without looking back.  
Maybe Mickey should have told him not to go.  
****  
It’s three days later when Mandy comes running in, eyes red and puffy. Three days without seeing Ian, but Mickey pushes that from his mind when he sees his sister.  
“He said he’s fucking gay Mick,” she cries, like this is somehow Mickey’s fault. Maybe it is. “He says he kind of has a boyfriend.”  
Selfishly, Mickey can’t help the disappointment he feels upon hearing this. Like somehow he’d thought he was special to Ian. But of course Ian has someone else, because he’s funny and kind and a fucking idiot but also really fucking beautiful.  
“He’s a douchebag anyways,” Mickey says weakly. Mandy nods slowly and walks into her room, shutting the door behind her.  
Mickey is alone.  
****  
“So you have a boyfriend, huh?” Mickey asks, throwing a snickers bar onto the counter in front of Ian. “  
“Why Mickey? You jealous?” Ian asks, standing up slowly and walking around the counter to stand right in front of Mickey, using his height as a method of intimidation, looking straight down at Mickey.  
Mickey doesn’t know what to do. It’s like the first time again and they’re frozen. Ian waiting for an answer, wishing he could take back what he said but also desperate for a response. Always there, always waiting patiently. Always seeing a part of Mickey that Mickey himself can’t see, a part of Mickey that is brave enough to take what he’s thinking and feeling and make words out of it. Craft sentences, paragraphs even, out of his love for Ian Gallagher.  
Maybe they’re not soulmates. Maybe they’re just two boys who are lost and confused and helpless but falling in love in a way they didn’t know was possible.  
No one was ever supposed to be able to love Mickey, but Ian wants to.  
Mickey raises an eyebrow in challenge. “Why the fuck would I be jealous that you’re running around with some fucking faggot?”  
Ian sighs and looks down at his hands as if they hold the answer.  
“It was you, Mick. I don’t know why I said boyfriend i just- I was talking about you, you asshole.”  
And Mickey is thinking this as he wraps a hand around the back of Ian’s neck, lifting another one to cradle Ian’s chin as he kisses him, gently and passionately. He’s never tasted anything quite like this before. Ian’s tongue finds its way into Mickey’s mouth, showing Mickey that he was not alone in the longing; in the desire.  
Ian pulls away slowly, and Mickey is almost thankful for it because he can finally look at Ian properly, see Ian as his.  
“You’re really fucking confusing sometimes, Mickey,” Ian says, but it’s far from the truth because somehow Ian has always known exactly what Mickey was thinking, even when Mickey couldn’t figure it out himself.  
****  
“Cute that you tried to keep up,” Ian jokes, intent on rubbing his victory in Mickey’s face. Not about to admit he is still out of breath from racing Ian home, Mickey raises an eyebrow at Ian and smirk.  
“Okay you’re giving me a fucking rematch tomorrow,” Mickey responds, playfully elbowing Ian in the side as they make their way up the front steps to the Milkovich house. Mickey watches Ian under the yellow light of the street lamp and God is that boy sexy. “I think today’s winner is owed a prize.”  
As Mickey licks his lips suggestively, the biggest grin starts to form on Ian’s face.  
“The fuck are you waiting for, big guy,” Ian murmurs into Mickey’s ear, causing Mickey to scramble for the keys and fumble a little trying to get them into the lock so quickly. But he finds the door is already unlocked. Strange. He could have sworn he left it locked.  
He pushes the door open cautiously and is greeted by a soft, girlish laugh. It’s not Mandy’s, but it’s possible that she brought someone home with her.  
Mickey walks into the living room and stops dead, feeling Ian crashing into him behind. “Shit,” Ian mutters. It sums up Mickey’s feelings entirely. Terry is sat on the sofa leaning forwards, his hand resting on the thigh of a slim, dark haired woman. Svetlana. Mickey’s soulmate.  
“Look Mickey! I found your girl!” Terry caws drunkenly, before laughing hysterically. Svetlana looks up at Mickey shyly, her eyes full of hope.  
“What the fuck?” Mickey cries, unable to contain his anger and disbelief. He feels Ian’s hand on his shoulder, supposed to comfort, but Mickey shrugs it off.  
Mickey turns to Svetlana. “You need to leave,” he tells her. His voice is slow and patient but there’s a firm hostility to it, that Terry picks up on.  
“Mick,” Ian warns, so quiet only Mickey can hear but he is ignored.  
Terry stands slowly. “You think you’re fucking clever, huh?” He asks Mickey, and there’s something in his voice that tells the boys he’s aching for a fight. “You think you can get out of marrying your soulmate? You gonna embarass our family? You think you can hide from this?”  
Terry grabs Mickey’s arm with the name tattooed across it and shakes it wildly.  
Mickey yanks his hand away in frustration. It’s as if there is no one else in the room except him and Terry. Mickey’s always been the small one, the punching bag. But not anymore because a beautiful, optimistic boy called Ian Gallagher has given him something worth fighting for. Love.  
“Don’t you fucking touch me,” Mickey threatens, and Terry’s eyes light up with a twisted kind of glee. It’s the opportunity to attack that he’s been waiting for.  
“You think you’re so tough because you have your little friend here to protect you?” Terry sneers, glancing over at Ian and Mickey can’t stand the way Terry is sizing him up, calculating if he can take the two boys down. It’s Mickey that Terry wants to fight, not Ian. So Mickey will give him a fight.  
Mickey raises his fist and sends it slamming into Terry’s face. Svetlana lets out a small scream and Mickey doesn’t miss the way Ian moves to stand in front of her, using his body as a barrier between her and the fight.  
Terry recovers quickly, swinging wildly at Mickey and tackling to the ground, pummeling Mickey with his fists.  
Mickey is seeing red, losing consciousness, struggling to fight back, but seeing Ian lunging at Terry and shoving him off Mickey is enough to get him back in the game.  
“You’re fucking dead,” Terry shouts at Ian, his breathing heavy as he shoves Ian off him. Before Terry has time to take a swing at Ian, Mickey is in between them.   
“Get out of here Ian,” he says, Terry knocking him back onto the ground. But Ian makes no attempt to move, because he is selfless so Mickey says the one thing that will make him go. “Get her out of here.”  
Ian looks over to where Svetlana has moved out of the way, wide eyed and terrified. He glances back at Mickey, conflicted but knows he has to do what Mickey wants. He puts an arm around Svetlana and hurries her out of the house, leaving Mickey to fend Terry off on his own.  
Terry lifts Mickey by the shoulders and slams a Mickey’s head into the ground and slowly everything starts to go black.  
****  
Mickey holds the gun up, his hand shaking slightly as he aims at the target. He needs to focus. He can’t think about Terry or Svetlana or anything. Just the familiar feel of the gun in his hand.  
He hears somebody walking over. Ian. He’s talking. Mickey doesn’t want to hear him. Focused thoughts, the gun, the target. Mickey pulls the trigger.  
“Would you fucking look at me?”  
Mickey doesn’t turn around.  
****  
“You love me and you’re gay.”  
Rage. All Mickey feels is rage. Rage and then regret, but it’s all too late now.  
Goodbye Ian Gallagher.  
****  
Mickey holds the picture in his hand. Ian Gallagher. His Ian.  
“You okay about the wedding?” Mandy asks from the doorway. Mickey drops the picture onto the bed quickly.  
“Get the fuck out,” he says, his voice not revealing any emotion. Mandy doesn’t listen, just walks towards him and stops in front of the bed, reaching for the picture. Mickey grabs it first, holding it away from her.  
“Give me that, dickhead,” she commands, snatching the picture off him. He wants to take it back but it’s too late and he’s tired, he’s just really tired of it all.  
“Shit,” she gasps, when she sees it’s Ian. It doesn’t take much, she’s figured it out.  
“Get out,” he repeats, lifting his hand to his mouth and rubbing his thumb across his upper lip, a nervous habit.  
She backs away slowly, pity in her eyes, followed by disappointment.  
“Ian’s a good guy Mick. You can’t just fuck things up like this. Mickey, what if he was your one chance at happiness?” She looks at him sadly. “I’m telling him about the wedding.”  
“Don’t you fucking dare-“  
But she’s already gone.  
****  
Mickey paces back and forth, cigarette in hand. The suit is too tight, too itchy and all he wants is to get this over with so he can go home and take it off. He glances at his wrist for the time, but of course there’s no watch there. He’s never had a watch. He might just be going crazy.  
At that moment, Ian bursts through the door. His eyes are red and puffy, his hair messy and he’s wrapped up in a thick parka. Mickey has never been more desperate to kiss him. To drive Ian Gallagher up against the wall and kiss him roughly and angrily and have Ian bend him over and to feel Ian’s pain.  
Ian looks at Mickey with so much desire, waiting for Mickey to say the things he’s supposed to say. Waiting for him to ask Ian to stay. Mickey is silent.  
“You don’t love her,” Ian says, because he knows it. He knows that even before he came into the picture, Mickey looked down at his stained wrist with disgust.  
Mickey sees no sense in arguing.  
“No I don’t fucking love her,” he tells Ian.  
”Don’t do this,” Ian says. Mickey feels like Ian has grabbed his heart and squeezed.  
“Why? We’ll never be soulmates or whatever,” Mickey reminds him, and although it was directed at Ian, it hurts Mickey too to hear those words. His own words.  
Ian looks at Mickey slowly, recognition and understanding clear in his eyes. Mickey had gone and let him down, just like he always knew Mickey would. Ian turns slowly and starts to leave. Mickey doesn’t know why, he’s never known why when it comes to Ian, but he can’t let that happen.  
“Wait,” he calls after Ian.  
Ian stops. Looks.  
“You said things don’t have to change,” Mickey says lamely. Weak.  
Ian shakes his head sadly. “Look around us, Mickey. They already have.”  
Mickey steps forward, narrowing the distance between them. All he can hear are Mandy’s words in his head.  
He might be your one chance at happiness.  
What if Mickey is Ian’s one chance at happiness too? What if they’re each other’s only answer; if they were made for each other?  
Fucking hell, Mickey has never met anyone quite like Ian Gallagher. They could be soulmates.  
“Don’t leave me,” he whispers. It escapes his lips, he didn’t mean to say it, but he doesn’t want to take it back. They move at the same time, hands in hair; gentle, longing kisses, clothes coming off.  
****  
“Damn Gallagher, I ought to get you pissed off more often,” Mickey jokes, and Ian laughs. The tension has lifted because of one, simple request from Mickey.  
He looks at Ian now, smiling and happy and it makes him feel a way that he can’t put words to. But it brings back a memory of a younger Mickey being told that soulmates aren’t real. Mickey’s starting to think that maybe they are, but it’s not about whose name is on his wrist. It’s about the red head in front of him, the desire to keep a smile on his face. The need to spend forever with Ian, just to hear that sound of Ian’s voice as he tells his stupid jokes or teases Mickey or complains about how fucking hard his maths homework is. He wants to be with Ian, fully and for as long as he lives.  
He grabs Ian’s hand and leads him towards the back exit.  
“Where are we going?” Ian asks.  
Mickey turns around and can’t stop himself from planting a small, soft kiss on the boys mouth.  
He pushes the door open, gesturing to the outside world which has never seemed more alive.  
“Anywhere you want.”


End file.
